Heart of Illusion
by Scroll Keeper
Summary: Chapter 3: The de la Vegas (and Zorro) get roped into helping pirates. Well, almost. - An illusion is nothing but a distortion of reality. Don Alejandro is forced to create plenty of those to save Diego's life. This is an (almost) 'anything goes' series based on words I pick out at random (so far). Each chapter is self-contained, but that may change in the future. Disney Zorro AU.
1. Puppet

Disclaimer: Based on Disney Zorro. I don't own any character nor seek to make any monetary profits. Any characterization mistake is mine alone.

* * *

 **"Puppet"**

Don Alejandro de la Vega sent a mischievous boy to Spain, and a man returned, his nose buried deep in books.

"Ride to the pueblo with me."

"Yes, Father." Diego put his book down and stood.

"Oh, and bring your file with you," added Don Alejandro.

His son nodded. "I shall do that." He went to his room to get ready.

* * *

The elderly don was held in jail. His potential rescuers looked at the sturdy lock.

"Break it," ordered Don Alejandro.

His son took out a long slender metallic tool, and put it inside the lock, breaking its mechanism. He opened the jail door.

"Thank you, my boy."

"Oh, no. It's my father's idea to come, so it's him you should thank, not me."

By then, the unconscious cuartel guard whom Don Alejandro coshed on the head woke up. He didn't hesitate to sound an alarm, and, in a matter of seconds, all the garrison soldiers came out to surround the three fugitives.

"De la Vega! I always knew you would be trouble."

Don Alejandro glared. "What are you going to do with us?"

The capitan stroked his chin. "Hmm. I should simply throw the lot of you in jail. But then I'd have to endure this scene again if someone else came to 'rescue' you."

"If I may make a suggestion..." started Sergeant Garcia.

The capitan whipped toward him. "Quiet!"

"You could perhaps consider letting them go," the sergeant continued in a voice near whisper.

"Yes, you could," Don Nacho chimed in. "I haven't done anything wrong."

The capitan eyed him up and down. "Those are only your words, and we all know the words of the condemned are not to be trusted."

"At least give me a fair trial!"

"A fair trial, you say?" A sardonic grin curved the capitan's lips. "Why not?" He turned toward Don Alejandro. "Plead your case. If you succeed, I shall let all of you go free. Otherwise, I'm going to devise a suitable punishment for all of you."

Don Alejandro's eyes went round. "You want us to plead our case here?"

"Of course, Don Alejandro. I don't want words of this attempted jail-breaking to leak out and undermine my authority, so I have to know what to do with the lot of you before morning comes."

"But what could we do here? We don't have paperwork, witnesses, or anything necessary to prove Ignacio's innocence."

"Tsk, such a voice of doom. I'm almost disappointed, Don Alejandro. Aren't you the one who always leaps first and looks later?"

"Put your brilliant mind to work, Don Alejandro. I know you can do it."

Don Alejandro rolled his eyes at Don Nacho. "Flattering me isn't going to get you out of this coil, my troublesome friend."

"Indeed." The capitan drew out his sword.

Diego took a step back. "What are you proposing to do with that dangerous thing, Comandante?"

"I am well within my right to cut down the lot of you." He held the sword at his side, the point to the ground. "But that wouldn't be fair, would it?" He eyed Don Alejandro's sword. "Fight me, and try to win, for it would be the only way for you and your troublesome co-conspirators to get out of this coil without much scratch."

Don Alejandro's face was white. "Why do you want to fight me?"

"You are a thorn in my side, de la Vega. I welcome the opportunity to kill you in a fair fight."

"Mi capitan, perhaps you should not express that sentiment so openly."

The capitan arched a brow. "Sergeant, are you perchance trying to sabotage my proposed duel?"

The sergeant gulped. "N...no, mi capitan. I wouldn't dare."

The capitan gave him a sweet smile. "Good. With you being so useful, I wouldn't want to court-martial you just yet. Leave two lancers here to be witnesses and guards, and take the rest away."

"Am I to return here after I carry out your order?"

The smile got even sweeter. "Of course, my dear sergeant. I wouldn't have you miss my duel with Don Alejandro for the world."

* * *

Clutching his torn and bloody right sleeve, Don Alejandro glared as if he'd like nothing better than to burn his nemesis to death.

"Tell me why I should spare your life," the capitan offered.

"Because killing me in cold blood would have the people revolting," Don Alejandro spat out.

"Not pleading for your life, I see. But you seem to exaggerate your own importance in this...charming pueblo, don't you think?"

"Even if I do, my son would have avenged me."

The point of his rapier pressed a little more into Don Alejandro throat, drawing blood. "That self-confessed bookworm?" A world of sneer seemed to be put into the word. "He looks like he wants to escape into himself, so curled up like a ball he is." He shook his head slowly. "It is impossible, Don Alejandro, much as I dislike to shatter your illusions. Or do you have another son who is a fighter?"

A sound of whip cracking rent through the night. His sword dropping to the ground, the capitan clutched at his abused wrist.

"Who are you? Show yourself!"

In answer, a black-caped masked man walked out of the shadow. "I shall duel with you, Capitan. If I win, Don Alejandro and his friends go free."

The capitan rubbed his wrist. The infernal whip left a few red marks but no blood. "Who are you?" he repeated, scowling.

"I am El Zorro." The masked man flicked his gaze toward the dropped rapier. "Pick up your sword, Capitan."

Don Alejandro got on his feet and blocked the way. "Wait a moment here, my black-clad friend. You are not fighting my duel."

"No, I am not," the man who called himself Zorro agreed. "Your duel is finished when he is the victor. Now I'm challenging him to a new duel."

"Seize this ruffian!" the capitan yelled at his subordinates.

With a flick of his wrist, Zorro brought his sword point straight to the capitan's throat. "Drop your weapons and stay where you are if you want your capitan to live a little longer."

The two lancers looked at the sergeant, who nodded glumly. "Better do as he says," he told them.

"A wise decision, Sergeant."

Don Alejandro and Don Nacho picked up the discarded muskets and covered the two lancers with them.

Zorro smiled at the sergeant, who fidgeted with his hands. "Ah, I've been remiss. This leaves you unaccounted for. I would ask the young senor to guard you, but he seems incapable at the moment." He indicated the curled up cloaked figure, who seemed robbed of speech.

"Don't gloat yet, Senor Zorro." The capitan gave him a mocking smile. "Lancers! Come out here!"

Zorro shook his head. "Do you really want to try my patience that far? I would rather not do any killing, but if you insist, Capitan..." He pressed the blade a little closer, drawing a small nick of blood from the capitan's throat.

"Keep it down, soldiers!"

"What?" Sergeant Garcia looked around in apparent confusion.

A series of knocks sounded on the cuartel gate. "Shut up and let us sleep!" Angry voices in similar vein chimed in.

The sergeant walked to the gate. "I am sorry for the disturbance. Please go home."

"Disturbance?" There was a world of disgust in the capitan's voice. He leveled his unfortunate subordinate with a burning glare. "How dare you, Sergeant?!"

"I think he dared because your shriek was loud enough to wake the dead."

Now Zorro was the recipient of the capitan's glare. However, it was a cold one. "My shriek, eh? You think you could mock me with impunity, you fancy masked demon?"

Zorro tilted his head. "Considering that I am the one holding you at sword-point, I am reasonably sure I could."

The capitan hissed at the reminder. He kicked at the dusty ground, startling Zorro into freeing him from the sword-point. Seeing his chance, the capitan grabbed his sword and lunged forward. Sighing, Zorro put his sword in a defensive stance.

The sergeant's eyes went round. "Capitan, look-" He fell forward.

"Perhaps you should look out for yourself first, eh, Sergeant?" Don Alejandro jabbed his ill-gotten musket into the fallen soldier's back.

"Did you just use your leg to trip me?" he demanded in an aggrieved voice.

Don Alejandro was a picture of innocence. "Why would you say that? It was an accident. I just happened to put my leg out when you came forward."

The sergeant sighed. "Yes, you did trip me. Well, let me up, please."

"Are you going to behave and not do anything unnecessary?"

"Well, you have the gun, so what you say, I obey." He gave an uneasy glance at the capitan. "For now."

"All right." Don Alejandro let the sergeant stand. "Watch if you must, but don't interfere. This is a duel, even if your capitan is not worthy of the honor to be in one."

But what actually happened seemed to belie Don Alejandro's words. The two combatants seemed evenly matched in fencing ability. When one thought Zorro might gain an upper hand, the capitan pushed him back. The same was true when the capitan appeared to have an upper hand.

No one was quite sure how much time had passed, but, for a while, there seemed to be no sound other than that of metal clanking. The few people in the courtyard were absorbed with the duel.

Sergeant Garcia appeared fascinated. "We could use someone with his ability. A pity he's an outlaw."

"On the contrary, Sergeant, I'm happy that his being an outlaw prevents him from becoming your capitan's underling."

"You sound like you admire this bandit, Alejandro?"

"Not at all, Ignacio. He's just the better of the two devils."

The capitan's acute hearing picked up this last part. "Devil, eh?" he growled, "I'll show you one." He ran toward Don Alejandro, who by this point decided Garcia was harmless and no longer used him as a shield.

Zorro took out his whip and cracked it so that it wrapped around the capitan's legs, causing him to fall. "Not so fast. Your opponent is I."

Unable to loosen the whip binding his legs, the capitan looked up and gave a sullen glare. "I don't care to fight you."

The masked man shook his head. "You're not going back on your words, are you?"

"I never agreed to fight you. Moreover, you are just a common bandit, so why do I have to deal with you like a gentleman?"

"So I'm not a gentleman? That is all right with me." He looked to somewhere behind the capitan. "Adios, Senor."

"I wouldn't dignify that with a like senti-" The capitan crumpled to the ground, having succumbed to a flower pot on his head.

The masked man smiled. "Thank you, Senor."

The caballero nodded. He started to walk back, but suddenly clutched at his stomach.

"Don Diego looks to be in pain. Perhaps I should assist him."

"You do that. But first, would you be so kind as to bind our good capitan and his loyal lancers?"

The sergeant glanced at the unconscious form and shook his head. "I would not, Senor Zorro. No matter what else he is, Capitan Monastario is still my commanding officer."

"Ah, I can't fault you your scruples. I'll have to do that myself, then." A smile curving his lips, Zorro used his sword to scratch three times into the capitan's jacket. He then bound up the three soldiers with his spare rope. "It's not very sturdy, but should be enough to buy time. You'll open the gate and let Don Alejandro and his friends go, will you?"

The sergeant nodded. "And you, Senor Zorro?"

"I'll take my leave of you now, my friends. Adios." Giving them all a quick salute, he leapt over the roof and disappeared.

* * *

Don Alejandro glared after the masked man for some time after he left.

"What's the matter, Alejandro?"

"There's something about him, Nacho. Something very familiar."

"Father? Don Nacho? Are you ready to leave?"

Don Alejandro turned toward his son. "You were so quiet back there. Are you all right now?"

"Yes, Father. Sergeant Garcia is everything kind. Although," he added, furrowing his brow, "he did say something puzzling."

"What did he say?"

"That it looked like I'd shrunk. Do I look short to you, Father?"

Don Alejandro shook his head. "No. Whatever could the sergeant mean?"

"I do not know. He eventually said it must be a trick of the light, so I agreed with him. After all, I could not explain how someone could lose or regain their height at will."

"No, I suppose no one could explain that," Don Alejandro said slowly. He peered at his son's face. "Your color still doesn't look too good. Let's hurry home and have a doctor check on you."

Diego shook his head. "No, no. I am feeling well, despite my color." As if to belie the truth of his words, he swayed a little on his feet, so his father had to catch him.

"Perhaps not quite all right, yet," he admitted in a sheepish voice. "But I'm much better." He gently let go of Don Alejandro's arm and stood firmly without swaying.

Don Alejandro gave him a quizzical look. "But what was the matter with you?"

"Ah, perhaps something I ate earlier didn't agree with me."

"You haven't over-imbibed, have you, my son?"

A blush washing over his face, Diego tugged the back of his ear. "Would you mind terribly if I had?"

Don Alejandro smiled. "As you've redeemed yourself by avenging me on Monastario, I forgive you."

"Oh, the flower pot. It was perhaps a bit cowardly, but hiding in shadows is my way of fighting."

"There is no coward's way of fighting, as long as your heart is in the right place."

"You relieve my mind, Father." He got out a handkerchief and wrapped it around Don Alejandro's right shoulder. "The blood has dried, but the wound needs cleaning. This will do until we get home."

"Home, huh? I'm glad you're already accustomed to referring to our hacienda as home."

"It has always been home to me, before Madrid. Come." He held out his hand. "The good sergeant has opened our way to freedom. Let's leave before the comandante regains consciousness and again wakes irate citizens who want to sleep."

* * *

The capitan stabbed at the tears in his jacket. "What is this?!"

"It is a Z, mi capitan. For Zorro, I suppose."

"I know that, Baboso!" He shoved the jacket at the hapless sergeant. "See that you get it mended. Or I'll see to it that your head roll."

The sergeant gulped. "Si, mi capitan." He took the coat and made a hasty exit from the capitan's office.

The capitan sat down behind his desk. "Just you wait, Alejandro de la Vega. Just you wait." He steepled his fingers together. "This masked demon of yours won't always be around to rescue you from your folly."

* * *

Don Alejandro entered the sala, excitement practically poured out of him.

"Did you hear? Those lancers Monastario sent back were all drugged."

Diego looked up from his book. "Oh. That's why they didn't answer the comandante's summon, I suppose?"

"Yes. The capitan is going on and on that the 'masked demon' had something to do with the drugging."

"El Zorro? Wasn't he with the comandante when those lancers slept the night away?"

"He could have drugged them before that."

"But how? They were keeping us prisoners before the comandante ordered them to their rooms."

Don Alejandro shook his head. "I'm not a criminal, Diego. I do not know the working of the mind of one."

"You think Zorro is a criminal?"

"Tying people up, threatening an officer of the crown are not actions of a law-abiding citizen."

Diego nodded. "You're right, Father. Zorro is a criminal."

"And I intend to see him punished."

"Isn't that a bit ungrateful?"

Don Alejandro waved his hand about. "Bah! It's you who saved us in the end. And he would have stolen my duel."

Diego stood and put a hand on his father's good shoulder. "I sympathize with your sense of ill-usage, Father, but if I may make a suggestion?"

"What suggestion?"

"The comandante isn't going to be happy that we are walking free, not after his humiliation last night. Perhaps you and Don Nacho should play least in sight, or go somewhere until he finds another target to vent his ire at."

"That's true. We should go to Monterey to report this tyrant to the governor. Are you coming with us?"

"I'd like to, but the comandante would be free to terrorize the people if we all leave."

"That's true." Don Alejandro put a hand under his chin, appearing deep in thoughts. Then he clapped his hands. "I have it! El Zorro is here. Monastario will be after that masked man. We don't have to leave, after all."

"Let Don Nacho go to Monterey, Father. He was already in jail once, it'll be easy to jail him again on some trumped-up charge the comandante sees fit to devise."

"That's true. So Nacho leaves, and we stay."

"To tell the truth, Father, I fear you might still be the comandante's target. Zorro might not care to appear again."

His eyes gleaming, Don Alejandro waved his son's worry away. "Posh! Someone like Zorro is a hero - noble to the core. As long as Monastario has free rein of this pueblo, Zorro would keep appearing to foil him."

Diego looked anything but impressed by his father's prognosis. "How can you be certain Zorro is a hero? Didn't the man wear black clothing and a mask? That's a bandit in my book."

"Else, he lost his way from some masquerade party." Don Alejandro grinned and patted his son's hand. "Don't worry about it, Diego. I know a hero when I see one."

"But you want to see this hero punished," Diego reminded his father.

"Ah, yes. A man shouldn't be above the law. Shouldn't take the law into his own hands."

"Even when the law is unjust?"

"Si. He should go through a proper channel."

"As in, sending a letter to the governor?"

"Exactly."

"Then I am your man, Father. There's nothing I love more than writing letters." Diego sat down and opened the book he'd been reading before his father shared his startling news. "Well...perhaps not as much as I love writing poetry, but I suppose that doesn't signify."

Sitting down next to his son, Don Alejandro beamed. "You are a good son, Diego. I am so proud of you."

"Thank you, Father. But I'm a bookworm."

"Son, being a bookworm has nothing to do with it. You are so obedient, a father couldn't ask for a more perfect son." He pulled his son up into a quick embrace. "See you at supper."

Long after his father left the sala, Diego stared at the blank paper on which he was supposed to write a letter to the governor. "A perfect son, am I?" he said, wrinkling his nose. "A perfectly dull son, more like." Letting the paper flutter to the floor, he picked up his book and started for his room.

He only got a few steps when his toe encountered a small dark object. Crouching down, he examined it. With no visible emotion on his face, he picked up the object and continued on his way.

* * *

After supper, Diego played the guitar, while his father took to enjoying a glass of wine.

Don Alejandro clapped his hands after his son finished a particularly complicated piece. "That's excellent, Diego."

"Thank you, Father." He put away the instrument and came to sit beside his father.

"Madeira?"

"No, thank you."

Don Alejandro raised his eyebrows, but he returned the glass to the side of the table and simply sipped from his own glass.

"I wonder, what other skills did you learn at the University?"

Diego shrugged. "Oh, the usual skills. Dancing, singing, playing other musical instruments, drawing, painting, cooking. And needlework, although I can't say I'm particularly good at stitching in a straight line."

Don Alejandro looked over his son. A smile curved his lips. "And lock-picking, don't forget."

"That's an easy enough skill. In fact-" Diego's eyes seemed to see something from far away. "I'm sure Ros could pick a lock easily if she ever saw a demonstration. There is no need to pay for a university education to learn it."

Don Alejandro opened his mouth, then closed it. A few moment later, he said, "Not to mention such a fine institution wouldn't teach you something borderline criminal, in any case."

Diego put a hand behind his head. "Well, I must remember not to use this skill more often than necessary, then."

"I'd prefer we didn't use it at all, but well-" Don Alejandro gave his son a sheepish look "-learning that Nacho was arrested affected my thinking."

Diego squeezed his father's hand. "It was a good idea, in any case. That guard didn't keep the jail keys on his person, for fear someone with our idea could easily steal them, I suppose."

"Lock-picking is a useful skill, and your ability with it has helped us. But let's move on to something else."

"What would you like to talk about?" A slight wariness crept into Diego's voice.

"Oh, this and that." Don Alejandro waved his hand about. "Whatever you want to tell me."

"I...ah. That encompasses so many things, I wouldn't know where to start."

"Starting at the beginning would be good."

"That would only work if I'm telling you a story," Diego said, chuckling.

Don Alejandro chuckled in response. "Then tell me a story! I want to know the son I've sent away for so many years."

"Ah, perhaps you would like to hear how I met my manservant, Bernardo. He was doing a magic trick involving a fancy, most hideous orange pocket watch when I first stumbled onto his path."

* * *

"Well, Senor Zorro," Diego addressed the black-clad doll in a voice devoid of emotion. "In my distraction, I failed to return you to my father. So you'll have to put up with my gloomy company for a little while longer."

Outside of his son's slightly ajar door, Don Alejandro paused in the act of knocking. "I'd better not demand it back just yet," he murmured. "Even though it is only a puppet, it'll do the boy good to have a rival." His smile turning grim, he returned to his own room.

Don Alejandro de la Vega sent a mischievous boy to Spain, and a bookworm returned. He would do well to remember that.

* * *

Author's Note: Thank you for reading. On reflection, some events might not make much sense, but I hope this chapter isn't too unbelievable. Either way, I hope you enjoyed it, at least a little.

For now, I'm treating this fic as a series of loosely connected (same continuity) short stories. There will be at least five more chapters (none of them are written yet, but they will be), but possibly a lot more. After all, it's not often I get to write what are essentially Don Alejandro's fantasies. :)

Next Chapter: "Frost"


	2. Frost

Disclaimer: I don't own any characters from Disney Zorro nor seek to make any monetary profits. Any characterization mistake is mine alone.

* * *

 **"Frost"**

Despite the warmth of his surroundings, his heart stays frozen.

At least, that was what everyone seemed to be thinking. He had not shed one tear for his mother. His face was inscrutable - no sign of emotion could be seen.

One day, his father finally had enough. It was well past noon, but his son was nowhere in sight.

"Has Diego come out of his room?" he asked their housekeeper.

She wrung her hands. "No, Don Alejandro."

The don clasped his hands together at the back. "But this is unacceptable! Tell him to come down at once."

The housekeeper went to do his bidding while he tapped his foot. Perhaps he should have called on the boy himself, but he was afraid he would lose his temper if he saw the uncaring state his son was in.

"You asked for me, Father?"

Alejandro looked up. He was wrong about his son's uncaring state being obvious. The boy's appearance was neat and flawless, not a hair nor an article of clothing out of place. But by closing off from the world, Diego did neglect to take care of his inner self. Alejandro did not know whether to feel relieved or more worried at the contrast.

"Yes, Diego. Sit down." He gestured at a chair facing the front of the house.

The boy obediently did his bidding. Alejandro took a seat next to him.

"I have not seen you lately," he said in a mild voice. It would not do to scold the boy just yet.

"I am at home, Father."

Such a soulless voice. And in such a stark contrast with the sentiment expressed. No child should be so emotionless. No child should suffer the way his son did. Alejandro was momentarily afraid. Afraid that he would not be able to help his beloved son.

"Yes, I know that. I mean I have not seen the real you lately."

"The real me?"

Alejandro was not a fanciful man, but he did not think he imagined a tiny bit of curiosity in his son's voice. And wasn't there a little flash of interest in the boy's eyes?

"Yes, the real you. The you who take such joy in life. The you who delight me with your wicked teasing. The you who laugh and cry so freely."

The eyes turned blank. It was like watching a candle being snuffed out.

"This is the real me," Diego replied in a flat voice. Alejandro felt chilled to the bone. He forced himself to look into his son's eyes, but could find nothing, because nothing was reflected in them.

Grasping at his chair with one hand, Alejandro put another hand to the side of his head. This had gone beyond what he knew how to deal with. If he believed letting loose a few bellows would bring his Diego back, he would have done so.

His son needed time, but he was afraid time was not something they had much in supply. He needed a plan.

Thinking fast, Alejandro stood. "It seems you are disinclined to confide in me. Very well. Ask Cresencia to give you something for lunch, then go take a walk outside of the hacienda ground. Don't come back until it is time for supper. We are having it early so it would not be completely dark yet. Now go."

The boy stood and bowed. "With your permission, Father."

Long after his son left the sala, Alejandro let out a long sigh. He was not certain whether he had made the matter worse by forcing Diego to communicate with the outside world. The boy could not be ready yet.

But no matter. He had already begun putting events in motion. Ready or not, Diego would go out there, facing the world that would not indulge his wish to be left alone.

* * *

Diego was walking in the woods when he came across three children he knew.

"Come down!" One of the girls stared up in a tall tree. "You don't want to go up there."

The boy poked his head down from the tree. "First you kicked up a fuss when I hesitated. Now you tell me to not go up. Make up your mind, if you please."

The same girl glared back. "Fine. If you want to break your fool neck, don't come back to haunt us." She turned to the other girl. "I'll buy you another one. Come."

"But, Ros..." Her hand trembling, she pointed toward the tree.

Just then, a strong gust of wind blew. Holding on as if his life depended on it, the boy in the tree shrieked.

"Oh, do be quiet!" Ros snapped.

"Says someone who has both feet firmly on the ground."

"Margarita and I are holding on to a tree, too."

"My point still stands. You _are_ on the ground, not perched precariously up here."

Ros sighed. "Stay still. When the wind stops, I'll help you down."

Diego glanced at the cream-colored object flying away. The wind fizzled out into a gentle breeze.

"It's gone, Ros," Margarita said in a forlorn voice.

"What is gone?"

"My bonnet."

Ros blinked her eyes. "Your what?"

In contrast with his earlier complaint, the boy nimbly climbed down. "Her hat, brat. You know, the thing I was sent up to retrieve."

"Don't call me that!"

"Don't act like one, then." Squinting, he shaded his eyes. "Wait, isn't that your hat, Margarita?"

She turned in the direction he was looking. "Yes." Her eyes widened as she approached the person holding her hat. "Diego?"

Wordlessly, he handed the hat back to her and turned away.

"Please wait."

He turned back toward her, a blank expression on his face.

She indicated the bonnet she was wearing. "Thank you for returning my hat."

Still expressionless, he did not move.

Margarita bit her lip. "If you are not busy, would you like to join us?"

He glanced toward her friends, who were approaching.

She blushed. "Oh, sorry. I should have asked them first."

"That wouldn't be necessary," Ros said, walking toward them. "He's welcome to join us."

The other boy scowled at her. "Don't speak for me, Rosarita. I haven't agreed to this."

"You are a beast, Ricardo."

He shrugged. "Just call it as I see it. I don't want a frosty tome walking with us."

A spark of something appeared in Diego's eyes, but it was gone as quickly as it came.

Rosarita jabbed a finger on Ricardo's chest. "You are horrible. Isn't Diego your friend?"

"Out of insults already?"

She grabbed his shoulders and shook him. "I'm so angry with you that I can't think of insults!"

"Good. I don't want you to think. Just follow my lead and leave here."

"Without Diego? I think not."

He rolled his eyes. "Rosarita, I said I don't want his company. If you want that, you go with him and leave me alone."

She released him and gave him a hurt look. "But why not? I thought you two were friends."

"I am friends with Diego. That icicle-" Ricardo made a dismissive gesture toward the other boy "-does not resemble the Diego I know."

"Why, you...you," Rosarita sputtered. Her shaking hands curled into fists.

"Both of you, stop it!"

Surprises on their faces, Rosarita and Ricardo turned toward Margarita, who gave them a look of reproach.

"Diego can speak for himself. For all we know, he wishes to be on his way."

Ricardo snorted. "If he can speak, I sure haven't heard a word."

"We will not hear a word from him now," Margarita said in a bleak voice. "He has left."

"Margarita..." Rosarita held out her hand.

Margarita stepped back. "Don't, Ros." She glanced at Ricardo and shook her head. "I think I'll return home."

Rosarita came over to the other girl's side. "I'll go with you." She paused to glare at Ricardo. "I hope you enjoy your solitude. You've certainly earned it." Grasping Margarita's hand, Rosarita led them both away.

* * *

Ricardo looked into shadowed woods behind him. "Coward. Come out, now."

His face reflecting no emotion, Diego walked out from a copse of trees.

"Are you going to continue giving me cold-eyed treatment?" Ricardo demanded.

Diego's eyes flashed. "Are you going to continue giving me insults?" His voice held no inflection. Eyes returning to their customary blankness, he turned away and walked on the path the girls had gone.

"Yes. Until you stop being so blasted stupid!" Ricardo shouted.

Wordlessly, Diego turned back and grabbed Ricardo's hand.

"What are you doing?" Ricardo asked, although he made no effort to resist being led along.

"I'm doing what you want: stop being stupid. Or-" Diego gave his friend a grim smile "-at least I'll try."

* * *

Thanks to long strides, and perhaps Ricardo's impatience, the two boys reached the girls a few minutes later.

Margarita's face lit up when she saw the boys. "Ricardo, Diego. Thank goodness. I was afraid Ros and I were lost."

Ricardo shook his head. "Lost? We've parted like ten minutes at most."

Rosarita smiled at him. "That's the first sensible thing I hear from you today."

"This is not the way I came in," Diego said, looking around.

"I suppose you're right. This doesn't look familiar to us, either." Rosarita pursed her lip. "Can you lead us out, Diego?"

He nodded.

"You could have asked me, you know?" grumbled Ricardo.

Rosarita slapped him on the shoulder. "If you weren't such a pest before, I might."

He shrugged. "It was all for Diego's own good. He's here now, isn't he?"

She rolled her eyes at him. "You were a beast even before Diego arrived."

Margarita and Diego exchanged rueful looks.

"Shall we leave them to their disagreement?"

"While they're using me as the subject of that disagreement? I should think not," Diego said indignantly. Then he laughed.

Smiling, she nodded. "We'd better break them up, then."

A big gale swept through the woods just then. Diego took Margarita's hand and ran toward the closest tree.

"This is not normal, is it? A strong wind like this should not happen in the woods." Nevertheless, she held on to the tree for dear life.

"No, it is not normal," Diego agreed. "It is also a cold wind." He turned his head left and right, back and forth, as much as he could while holding on to the tree trunk. "Try not to panic, but I can no longer see nor hear neither Ros nor Ricardo."

"Perhaps, like us, they simply take some shelter," Margarita suggested. However, she didn't sound very convinced of her own words.

"When the wind stops, we'll go look for them."

"They could not have gone very far, could they?"

Diego didn't answer.

A lightning flashed in a distance. Rains were pelting down on the forest. Margarita's hand found Diego's and squeezed gently.

"It is all right. They will be all right."

Diego smiled. "I'm not worried about them. Ros is well able to take care of herself."

"Rosarita is fearless. I'm not sure if that is such a good thing."

He tilted his head to one side. "You don't approve, Margarita?"

She sighed. "It is not for me to approve or disapprove. Rosarita has her parents to look out for her welfare."

"So you are worried about her."

"It does sound contradictory, doesn't it? I was trying to reassure you, but in the end I am the one who is worried."

Holding on to her hand, Diego gave it a gentle squeeze. "She is not alone. Ricardo is with her."

"You're right." Margarita looked to some place faraway. "But somehow those two could get into more mischief together than apart. It might sound callous, but I'm glad I'm neither of their parents."

"You can never be callous, Margarita. But look on the bright side. While it is true that they could get into mischief, I trust our friends to be responsible and work to return to us instead."

The heavy rains chose that moment to turn into drizzles and then stopped, and the gale finally dissolved into a light breeze. Letting go of the sturdy tree, Margarita brushed droplets of water from her face and adjusted her bonnet. Diego held out his hand toward her.

"Shall we?"

Wordlessly, she accepted his hand. Together, they walked toward the direction Diego came from.

* * *

After some time, Margarita and Diego came across a lake.

"The lake is frozen!" she exclaimed in disbelief.

"But the ground is dry," Diego said, as he crouched down to touch the soil. "This and the frozen lake must be connected to that bitterly cold wind earlier."

"But no matter how strong that cold wind was, it should not be able to freeze an entire lake."

"I agree." Diego walked to the bank of the lake and knocked his fist on the ice. "Definitely frozen solid. If this is not a work of nature, I am at a loss to explain it."

Margarita's eyes lit up. "But that's just it, Diego. This is simply not a work of nature."

"You sound like you wish for that to be true." He tilted his head to the side and smiled as a blush stole over her face.

"I'm not such a dull creature that I cannot appreciate an adventure that lands right at my feet," she said primly.

"Margarita, you could never be dull even if you try."

"That is nice of you to say so." She walked to where he was and crouched down. "I am already cold even though I haven't touched the ice."

"A wise decision. I shouldn't have done that either, but I forgot."

Standing, Margarita turned a puzzled look on him. "Why not?"

"If the lake froze from some unexplained phenomenon, the ice could be dangerous to the touch." He held out his hand. "Come. We should not stand too close to the lake either, in case it's possible to inhale something odorless but harmful."

"You are wise, young senor," stated a gravelly deep voice. "The caution is not necessary, however. But for the fact that you can slip on it, there is nothing dangerous about the lake."

Diego bowed his head toward the speaker. "Senora. I trust we do not intrude on your land?"

The speaker, a gypsy by the look of loose, colorful, fancy dress with hooped skirt, waved a hand. "Not at all. I rarely ever have visitors, so you are welcome. In fact, come into my hut to get dry. You two look soaked to the bone."

"We were caught in a heavy downpour. But we were under a large tree so I didn't think we got very wet."

"Ah, I see. Well, come in anyway. It is better to be dry and warm, yes?"

Diego exchanged a glance with Margarita.

"I do feel cold." She turned toward the gypsy. "If we would not be an imposition..."

"Not at all. This way." The gypsy gestured at a hut on a small hill overlooking the lake. Both children said their thanks and followed.

* * *

It was but a short walk until the three travelers reached the gypsy's hut.

"That is a charming place," Margarita said.

The gypsy bowed. "Thank you, Senorita. I hope you like the inside, too."

"Make yourselves at home," the gypsy told the two children as they walked in. "I'll go get some dry clothes for you to change, and you may hang your wet clothes on those ropes near the fireplace."

"Gracias, Senora," chorused the children.

The gypsy waved in response and disappeared into a room at the back of the hut.

Margarita went to the fireplace and put her hands out toward the flame. "This is great. We are fortunate, Diego, to be rescued from the cold by a kind lady."

Diego frowned at the closed door. "I wonder. It was a little too convenient, the way she found us."

His companion shook her head. "Oh, Diego. You are wise, but sometimes you are too careful. The senora is kind to offer us shelter from the cold."

"Is she?" It was his turn to shake his head. "Never mind. We should ask her about Ros and Ricardo."

"Would she know anything about them?"

"There is a strong possibility that she would. As you have pointed out, they could not have gone very far."

The door opened, and the gypsy walked in with a bundle. "Sorry for the wait. Here you are." She handed the appropriate clothing to each of the children.

"This shirt..." Diego's eyes widened. Clutching the shirt, he ran into the backroom.

To his horror, Ricardo and Ros lay insensible on a long sofa. For a moment, the air felt so heavy he could not breathe. But then he saw small regular movements on the cloaks that covered their unconscious bodies and inwardly breathed a sigh of relief.

But his throat was clogged. He seemed to lose his ability to speak again.

"I can explain."

He turned toward the gypsy. His heart was beating in a regular rhythm, but that organ had become frozen again. Or perhaps it had never thawed at all.

"I found them lying in the woods not far from here. I was out to gather herbs to revive them when I met you and the young senorita."

"You could have explained that before you shocked us with their unconscious forms."

Diego swirled his head and met with Margarita's gentle eyes. He was grateful to her, since he was the only one shocked. And she was the one who had no suspicion of their hostess less than perfect hospitality.

"I was hoping you would not find out that there was anyone else here. It seems they must be your friends, since you apparently recognized that shirt." The gypsy pointed to the shirt Diego still clutched in his fist.

Feeling suffocated, as if the very air pushed down on his body, Diego threw Ricardo's shirt on the floor and ran out of the hut.

"Wait, young senor!"

He did not stop. Not even when he heard a thump of a fall, and then a soothing voice of Margarita trying to comfort the gypsy. He would be choked if he stayed any longer inside the small hut.

* * *

Sitting on its bank, Diego looked sightlessly beyond the frozen lake. Somehow he felt a kinship to it, despite what he told Margarita earlier about it possibly being dangerous. If the icy lake melted, perhaps the ice that clutched around his heart would be gone too.

"You look troubled, my young friend."

The voice was soft. So it was a shock to find a black apparition behind him. The man was tall, perhaps as tall as his father, in a dark-colored formal caballero clothing, complete with a dark-colored hat. A black cape covered most of his clothing, and a black masquerade mask covered most of his face, except for the eyes, the mouth, and the chin. Diego didn't see a mustache or any other facial hair.

"May I sit with you?"

Diego nodded. He did not sense any dangerous aura from the man. On the contrary, he sensed just the opposite.

The masked man nodded and sat on Diego's right side, leaving some comfortable space between them.

"You like this lake?"

Diego did not know precisely how he felt about the lake. But as his power of speech had not yet returned, he nodded in reply.

"It is beautiful, and will be more beautiful when waters of life can flow freely again."

The man talked as if a frozen lake was a regular phenomenon. Perhaps it was. Diego felt his perception of reality was skewed. He glanced at his companion. Perhaps a masked man wandering around was a regular phenomenon, too.

"You wonder at my attire, si? I was supposed to be at a costumed ball, but as it is filled with stuffy haciendados, I sneaked out." He winked at Diego. "You'll sympathize, won't you? I bet you have sneaked out of some boring affair too."

Not boring, but suffocating. Now that he was outside, in a large open space, Diego felt easier in the mind and in the body. But he still could not erase it, the image of his two friends lying so still.

They must be safe. His perception might be skewed, but his instincts were still reliable. The gypsy might not tell the truth, but she was not dangerous. Otherwise, he would never forgive himself for leaving his friends with her.

"Will you let me tell you a story?" the masked man asked.

Blinking, Diego nodded. This was such a strange gentleman. He stayed despite Diego's paying little attention to him.

"I feel a kinship to you," he said, as if in answer to Diego's unvoiced question. Or perhaps unasked would be more accurate. He probably would not ask even if he could speak.

"Strange, huh? But then, stranger things have happened all the time." The masked man smiled. That smile made Diego feel so safe and familiar, so much that he almost missed the beginning of the story. He sat up straight and tried to pay attention.

"Once upon a time, there is a bear cub that lost its mother. It has stopped being playful and has withdrawn into itself. The father is concerned. A little kid should go out and have fun with other kids, not stay cooped up in its dwelling. One day, a passing witch comes across the father bear, and she agrees to grant his wish. In return, she only wants a little of his fur, which he readily gives.

"The witch, however, turns out to be evil. She uses his fur to make a voodoo doll so that she could complete her twisted ritual to gain power. The father bear becomes ill, forcing the son to stop feeling sorry for itself. It cares for its father, day and night, until the father bear regains his full strength.

"Together they go searching for the evil witch, who confesses to hastening the mother bear's illness along. As she has done something similar to other humans, they deliver her to the human authority and return home. Both father and son have to work to build back their close relationship. The son learns it is not to be blamed for its mother's illness and her subsequent passing, and the father learns to pay more attention to his son's needs."

Diego was crying, tears flowing down his face freely. They were cleansing. His eyes blurry, he fumbled for his handkerchief, but before he could get it out, the masked man put his own handkerchief into Diego's hand. He tried to dab at his tears, but they came fast and the handkerchief was soon soaked.

The masked man reached out and pulled Diego into a hug. "Let it all out, my young friend. Don't keep it inside," he said in a soothing voice.

Snuggling close, Diego breathed in the clean smell of the woods after the rain. He did not remember most of words the man used, but he would always be grateful for the thoughts behind the man's kind action.

* * *

Diego returned to the hut a while later. The masked man had offered to accompany him, but he declined. He needed to face this by himself.

Ricardo, again in his own clothing, was sitting at a chair in the main room. He waved when he saw Diego. "Hola, Diego. Where have you been? I was bored waiting for you."

And as easily as that, his throat stopped being clogged and his voice returned. It was always Ricardo, who had some unexplained power to restore Diego's power of speech.

"You are all right?" he asked, testing his voice.

"Oh, never better." Ricardo airily waved a hand at himself. "The senora gave me some vile concoction to restore my strength." He grinned. "You'd better not make her mad, Diego. She might feed it to you in retaliation."

Diego looked around the room. "Where are the girls?"

Ricardo pulled a face. "They are closeted with the senora in the back on some girl matter. That was the reason I was sent out here."

He sounded so disgusted that Diego let out a laugh. It was so freeing, this laughter.

"Will you be quiet?" Ricardo glanced at the back of the hut, sweat running down his face. "Now you're bringing them out here." Groaning, he put a hand over his face as the door opened.

"Ah, thank god you've returned to us, young senor."

She was tall, he mused. Or would be tall if she didn't hunch her back. I wonder...

Diego shook his head to erase the fanciful image. "I am sorry for running away," he said, bowing his head.

The gypsy waved her hand. "It is fine. I am grateful that you have not met with any danger."

She sounded concerned for his welfare. Perhaps more concerned than was warranted? He mentally shook his head. Not everyone had an ulterior motive.

Then he saw how she favored her left leg. The left ankle looked swollen.

The gypsy saw the direction of his gaze. "Oh, my ankle isn't as bad as it looks. It is only a little sprained."

"But it should be treated as soon as possible."

"Thank you. The young senoritas already offered to go gather the herbs necessary, so they will probably be back momentarily."

They all sat down and waited in a companionable silence. Even Ricardo had the sense not to open his mouth to say something inappropriate.

* * *

It was a fine morning. Smoothing a finger over his mustache, Alejandro was leaving for ranch work when he heard his son's footsteps.

"Father!"

Alejandro smiled at his son. "What is it, Diego?" The boy was smiling, his eyes crinkling at the corners. Due to an inevitable event, Alejandro didn't meet his son last night, so this was the first time he saw the transformation of his son into a happy boy. And he very much liked what he saw.

Diego stopped to take a breath. He raised an uncertain gaze. "Are you busy?"

"I always have time for you, mi hijo." Alejandro put his arm around Diego. "Now what is it you want to tell me?"

"I've made a doll. Cresencia helped me with it." He bit his lip. "You don't mind that, do you?"

Even if he minded his son making a doll, which he did not because he liked Diego to have many skills, Alejandro wouldn't dream of saying anything to bring dismay to Diego's hopeful face. "That is interesting," he said in a lighthearted tone. "May I ask why you started learning the craft of doll-making?"

Diego's eyes seemed to lit up with excitement. "I met a bandit yesterday."

Alejandro grabbed Diego's shoulders in alarm. "Dios! Did he rob you? Did he hurt you?"

"No, Father." His son laughed. "He did none of those. In fact, he did the opposite." He told his father about a black-masked caballero who comforted him.

"And I wanted to thank him, so I made this doll." Diego put the doll in his father's hand. It was a black cloth doll, about the size of Alejandro's palm, and felt very light. He could see the eyes made with white buttons behind the masked face. The body seemed to be small compared to the head.

"Very admirable," Alejandro said while turning the doll around in his palm. "We should always strive to thank those who do something for us."

Diego beamed, then bit his lip. "But I don't know how to find him."

"Tell you what? I'll ask around. There could not be many masquerade parties yesterday. And I will personally deliver your gift to your masked man."

"You will do that for me?" Diego hugged his father. "Thank you, Father." He bounced back on his heels. "I'll not keep you from your work. See you later." Waving, he ran toward the house.

Alejandro chuckled as he watched his son disappear inside. Ah, to be young and carefree again. His smile then turned grim. They still needed to come to terms with their shared tragedy, but they could take little steps together toward healing.

* * *

After lunch, Alejandro went to a shack outside of town.

"Ah, Alejandro, the very man I wanted to see," greeted its lone occupant. He was sitting at the only table in the shack.

"Thank you for helping me with Diego."

The man airily waved his hand. "Think nothing of it. Can I go to your house now?"

"In a moment. I want to ask you something first."

The shack dweller pointed at Alejandro's jacket. "What is that black thing?"

"Just something my son gave me." Alejandro pushed the object further into his pocket.

Smiling, the man stood up, walked over to Alejandro and pulled out the black object.

"What do we have here? A cloth doll?" He wrinkled his nose. "Atrocious craftsmanship."

Alejandro glared. "You watch your words, Estevan de la Cruz. That is my son's work you are insulting."

"Just call it as I see it." Estevan put up a hand. "All right, all right. Your boy's heart is in the right place, but his effort leaves a lot to be desired." He handed the doll back to Alejandro.

"Only to you. I appreciate his effort. It means I've done something right by putting on that black costume."

"Of course it's the right thing to do. It was my idea after all."

"Only the costume. The rest I did myself. "

Estevan raised a brow. "Oh? What did you do? "

"I lied to my son." Alejandro's voice shook.

"I prefer to think of that as putting on necessary illusions."

Alejandro narrowed his eyes. "Just what did you do?"

Estevan gestured for Alejandro to come near. Then he whispered something in Alejandro's ear.

"Sleeping draught?!"

Estevan put a finger to Alejandro's mouth. "Not so loud. I don't have to tell you how important it is to keep this between us, do I?"

Alejandro pushed the finger away. "My son would wring Ricardo del Amo's neck first before demanding an explanation."

"Like father, like son, eh?"

"Don't push your luck. My hands are barely restrained from closing around your neck."

"Perhaps my method was a trifle unorthodox, but Diego is fine now, isn't he?"

"That is the only reason your neck is still safe."

Estevan shrugged. He pushed back his chair and sat down. "That boy, your son's friend. Ricardo, isn't it? He has a fine making of a practical joker. Perhaps I should take him on as a protege."

"Go back to Spain, Estevan," growled Alejandro.

"Not until you pay me for the gas to make rain clouds and the machine to make wind." He named a sum.

Alejandro's vein looked to be in danger of popping out. "That's highway robbery! You obtained that gas-like substance for free and you already have that wind machine."

"There are my time and labor to consider, you know."

"Bah! As if you know the meaning of the word."

"I do. My time is very valuable."

Alejandro slammed his fist on the table. "Labor! As if you know the meaning of labor!"

"I do, too. I need my concentration, which is labor-intensive, to mix the substance up to produce viable rain."

"I don't want to hear your mumbo-jumbo. Prove to me that you know how to labor and I'll pay your exorbitant fees."

Estevan pushed back his chair and stood up. "Are you trying to cheat me, Alejandro?"

Alejandro's face flushed. "What?!"

"I've already delivered the goods." Crossing his arms, Estevan leaned back against his chair. "If you don't pay, I guarantee that your precious de la Vega name wouldn't survive such a blow."

"Are you threatening me?"

"I'm telling you to do the right thing. You wouldn't dream of telling a shopkeeper that you won't pay until you put him through some stupid test, would you? Why am I any different?"

Alejandro sighed. "Estevan, you are my wife's brother, little as I like to claim the relationship. You are not a common tradesman."

Estevan drew himself up. "Of course I am not anything common. Good of you to notice." One leg of his trousers caught on a leg of his chair, so he crouched down to free it.

"What happened to your leg?" Alejandro pointed at the white bandage peeking out from Estevan's trousers.

"Oh, I fell while trying to catch a lost cub."

"Did you catch it?"

"Yes and no."

"What does that mean?"

Estevan put a hand on Alejandro's shoulder. "I had it back, but it was no longer lost."

Alejandro smiled. "All right. I'll pay your extortion. Just leave California before Diego finds you."

"My make-believe ability is good!"

"Leave anyway. My son knows a pretense when he sees one." Alejandro indicated the cloth doll in his pocket.

Estevan pouted. "Such hospitality. And after I have done you such a huge favor."

"I didn't ask for your elaborate way of helping." Alejandro grimaced. "In fact, no one would have believed me if I tell this story of you helping us."

"You could see it as a fairy-tale, complete with morals."

"So I could," Alejandro said to himself after sending his relative by marriage on the way to somewhere far away, hopefully never to return for many years. _Never ask Estevan for a favor_ seemed to be the moral here. _Otherwise, you will be many pesos poorer for it._

Firmly putting all that out of his mind, Alejandro moved to the patio. The day was warm, the frozen lake had thawed, and his son was outside playing and laughing like a child he was. Alejandro could not ask for a greater gift.

* * *

Author's Note: Thank you for reading. This chapter was inspired by a quote: "Your body is warm, but your heart is still cold." And also by a discussion I had with IcyWaters a while back.

Oh, and I'm sure there must be some confusing part, since I tend to leave things out and like readers to fill in the blank themselves. But I see this chapter (and in fact the whole series) more as fantasy than anything approaching reality, so hopefully you can forgive a few things that might not make much sense.

As always, I hope you gain at least a little enjoyment out of my story. :)

Next Chapter: "Treasure"


	3. Treasure

**"Treasure"**

It all started with a heavy chest pirates left behind. A locked chest filled with exotic valuables from far-off corners of the world, if one could believe the boast of its erstwhile owners.

Of course, the pirates didn't leave the chest willingly. But unless they could break out of jail, there was nothing they could do. At least they could sleep peacefully at night, secure in the knowledge that no one could break the lock, the key being far out of anyone's reach.

Oh, how they would howl and writhe in agony if they could but see the chest in question. For it was easily opened by nothing more than a long slender metallic tool.

"Books! Nothing but books!" Don Alejandro exclaimed, swinging his arms up and down.

Diego picked up one of the books and flipped through it. "Precious stones and botany. Our yet undiscovered natural wonders." He whistled. "These pirates sure are well-educated, don't you think, Father?"

Don Alejandro lifted an incredulous brow. "Because they have Pictures of Rocks and Plants?"

Sighing loudly, Diego flipped to a page and pointed at its content. "Because they can apparently make sense of the formulas used here."

"Bah! That's nothing."

"Nothing?"

"It's a trick." Don Alejandro rubbed his hands together, seemingly warmed up to the idea. "The books are just cover-ups for something else. Something nefarious."

Diego pondered this. "Yes, perhaps you are right. It's a bit suspicious how this chest came to be here in our library."

Don Alejandro eyed the Z on the paper formerly stuck to the keyhole. "Zorro brought it, didn't he? What is suspicious about that?"

"Now, Father, how could that be?" Diego put both hands underneath the chest, but quickly withdrew them. "This must weigh more than what a horse, even Zorro's magnificent black horse, can carry."

Don Alejandro shook his head. "The chest doesn't look heavier than another human being, and I know that horse could carry two persons easily."

Diego sighed. "I think you are right, Father. So now we are left with the puzzle of what these books represent to our pirates."

"Those pirates aren't our anything!"

"'Those pirates' it is," Diego agreed in a mild voice. His eyes twinkled. "Do you have any idea what nefarious scheme they might devise with these books?"

Don Alejandro picked up a book from the chest and held it back and forth between his hands. "Hmm...this doesn't look too useful as a weapon. Unless one drops it directly on an enemy's head."

Diego looked torn between laughter and tears. "I think we can safely rule out that option."

"I agree with you, mi hijo. Book is more along the line of your weapon, with your quick thinking mind." Don Alejandro smiled.

"Thank you, Father," Diego said, bowing. "At the risk of sounding like a disobedient son, may I suggest that the books are not covering up anything nefarious?"

"What do you have in mind, then?"

"I think the pirates were simply trying to trade the books for the valuables they wanted."

Don Alejandro nodded. "Fair enough. Now, what do you suggest we do with these ill-gotten gains?"

"How do we know they are ill-gotten? The pirates could have bought the books in honest."

"Bah! The day you find an honest pirate is the day Zorro goes stealing from honest people."

"What an analogy," Diego said, a strangled laughter in his voice. "I hope the Fox could keep living up to your high standards."

Don Alejandro smiled at his son. "Oh, I have no doubt our wily fox is up to the challenge. But, come. Lend me your expertise with regard to the pirate's treasures."

"I know I do not want the comandante to hear about these books. He might throw us in jail just because we have them in our house."

Don Alejandro looked more resigned than angry.

"Yes, Monastario is determined to put me in jail."

"To get Don Nacho's location from you?"

"It's possible, but Ignacio is away to heaven-knows-where, so our devious comandante would never get far if he tried that."

"I am afraid, Father. If he is convinced that you knew something about Don Nacho's location, the comandante will not leave you alone."

"I'll just have to convince him otherwise. That starts with not having any reason for him to put me in jail."

"If jailing you is all he wants, I could rest easy. Well, at least, I would not be too anxious," Diego amended as his father gave him a look of mock reproach. "He makes you his personal enemy, for some reason I cannot fathom."

"I speak out to oppose his oppression schemes."

"Yes, and so do other dons. Yet none he cared to make an example of until Don Nacho."

"Well, Don Nacho has a beautiful daughter, whom our capitan seemed to be a little sweet on."

"Elena? But I'm sure she wouldn't give him any encouragement."

Don Alejandro gave his son an enigmatic look. "Wouldn't she? She is a loyal daughter, si? If giving the capitan a little encouragement would get her father out of trouble, wouldn't she do so?"

"That would be devious, Father," Diego said, but there seemed to be no censure in his words.

"Yes, indeed. A devious conduct worthy of our wily fox. Perhaps he might be interested in her?"

Diego shook his head. "But I thought you don't approve of Zorro."

"Only of his methods. As a man, he is very much worthy of her."

"His character doesn't matter, Father. Elena already has a sweetheart, and if Zorro is half the man you seem to think him, he wouldn't come between lovers."

"Of course he wouldn't. But he has no qualms leaving us with a problem of disposing of this chest of books!" Don Alejandro slapped at the half-opened chest.

Diego stared at the chest. Then he turned toward the fireplace.

Don Alejandro followed his son's gaze. "That is a good idea, Diego. Burn the lot of them so they wouldn't be our trouble any longer."

Diego blinked then shook his head. "It might be safer to burn them, but I think we should keep the books and chest for now."

"For how long? As you have pointed out, Monastario sees me as his bitter enemy. He will eventually come up with some plan to search our hacienda."

"Only until I can come up with a better idea than attempting to return the books to the pirates."

* * *

They took the books out of the chest, and scattered them among the books in the library. As for the chest, Diego took it to his room and filled it with his personal effects. Bernardo did wonder with the outside of the chest, cleaning it so thoroughly that it no longer looked like something dragged in from a muddy shore.

"I don't like it, Bernardo," Diego said while pacing the length of his room. "Whoever left the chest here will come back for it."

Bernardo pointed at the Z on the paper that used to be in the keyhole.

"That's just it. Anyone could write a Z, could they not?"

Bernardo mimed his fist slamming down just on top of the chest then pulled his hands apart sideway.

Diego smiled. "Ah, getting rid of the chest and its troublesome content wouldn't prevent the person from appearing. And if we don't have something to give them, they might want our lives instead."

Bernardo opened a closet and went inside.

"What are you doing in that narrow space? Hiding?" Diego's brow cleared. "Ah, so we escape? Play least in sight until the danger passed? But how do we know when that will be? The "person" might simply wait until the time we thought we wouldn't be hounded any longer."

Bernardo came out of the closet. He took a book from the vanity table and opened it to a page with a map.

"So we make a plan to lure out this person instead of waiting for them to come to us? It is a good idea, my friend, but I don't have any idea how to do that."

"Don Diego?" That was accompanied by a knock. "Sergeant Garcia would like to see you."

"Thank you, Cresencia. I'll be down presently," Diego called. He gave his faithful manservant a look of wry amusement. "Perhaps that is a sign from above?"

Bernardo's eyes widened. He shook his head.

"You look like a spring-necked doll, my friend, with your head lolling back and forth like that." Diego patted Bernardo's shoulder. "Sergeant Garcia isn't entirely incompetent, you know, and I could use his help." He walked toward the door and opened it. "Keep an eye on Father for me, will you? I'll probably be for some time, so don't wait up."

* * *

"Don Diego, I'm sorry for being late."

Diego smiled. "That's all right, Sergeant. Being outdoor helps me in composing my new poem." He got up from his perch under a tree some distance out back of the de la Vega land. "Now, what can I do for you?"

Sergeant Garcia shifted his feet and fidgeted with his hands. Then, squaring his shoulders, he walked toward the tree where Diego was under.

"There is this gypsy, Don Diego," the sergeant started in a conspiratorial tone. "She says I am to bring a friend to her first before she can lift my curse."

Diego lifted his brow. "This is the first time I hear of a curse. What is it?"

The sergeant looked glum. "To tell you the truth, I do not know. I only know there is one."

"How? This gypsy could be deceiving you."

"Oh, no, Don Diego. Her predictions all came true."

"All right." Diego turned to look forward. "What kept you just now?"

Sweats dropped from the sergeant's brow. "I-"

"It's a simple curiosity, Sergeant. I'm not going to rake you over the coals for saying you simply fell asleep."

"Oh, it's nothing like that." The sergeant glanced around. "Please come closer."

Tilting his head, Diego leaned forward. "What is it? You have worse secret than a gypsy putting curses on you?" His tone was playful.

Sergeant Garcia nodded. "Si. But the comandante doesn't want me to say a word."

"In that case, it seems to me that you had better keep his confidence. I would not want to rile him up."

"But it is not right, what he does."

"What does he do?"

"There are pirates in our midst. And, apart for confiscating their treasure chest, he only locked them up overnight."

Diego whistled. "Did he, now? Perhaps they are good pirates or not even ones at all."

"He was going to use them to bring in Don Alejandro, but the pirate leader dismissed the bargain."

"What?" The don turned sharply away, as if the sergeant's very words struck him. "Why didn't you tell me that sooner?"

"I-I" stammered the sergeant.

Diego gave him a withering glare. "Never mind! I am going home." The don ran toward the de la Vega hacienda.

The sergeant ran after him. "Don Diego! Please wait!"

Diego did not turn around. "I am not interested in your excuses." However, he did slow down.

"It isn't about that. Please hear me out."

"I do not have time for that gypsy you probably only made up just to distract me either."

Sergeant Garcia sighed. "Please, Don Diego. We are presently in trouble."

"What now?" Diego muttered. He turned sharply toward the sergeant. "I said-" The don's eyes widened. "What in the world?"

" _That_ is what I have been trying to tell you," the sergeant said in a glum voice.

* * *

After waiting until Diego was far enough from home, the army stormed the de la Vega courtyard.

"You are under arrest, Don Alejandro," greeted the capitan.

"What is the meaning of this, Monastario?" Don Alejandro demanded as he stared down from the stairs outside his room. "How dare you just come into my house without my permission?"

The capitan produced a book. "Remember this? You have the whole lot of them in your library."

"How could you even get in there? It is locked." Don Alejandro narrowed his eyes. "Who told you about my books?"

"I promised not to name him, but you ought to know you have at least one discontent worker here, de la Vega."

Don Alejandro raked a hand through his silver hair. "This is an outrage!"

"It is none of my making. You are the one breaking the law by owning illegal books."

"There is nothing illegal in my books."

"Oh, I'm not denying that. However, you neglected to pay the import taxes on them."

"They are gifts!"

The comandante rolled his eyes. "Credit me with some intelligence. Be glad I'm not accusing you of being in collusion with a wanted outlaw in illegally trying to evade your lawful taxes."

Don Alejandro ran down the stairs and stopped a few inches in front of the comandante. "That is exactly what you are doing now!"

"I see I've been too lenient." The capitan stroked his chin. "Much as I loathe to, I shall have to make an example of you. Lancers, arrest Alejandro de la Vega on the charge of tax evasion. And for talking back to the law in this pueblo."

"You?! A law in this pueblo?" Don Alejandro scoffed. "Don't make me laugh!"

A large twitch appeared on the capitan's face.

"Don Alejandro," began Sergeant Garcia, almost hesitantly. "Please stop speaking before you make things worse."

The comandante smiled. "Sergeant Garcia speaks sense, a rare occurrence with him. You'll be wise to follow his advice, Don Alejandro, if you don't want his dire prediction to come true."

* * *

Diego found Bernardo in the sala and wasted no time on greeting.

"Monastario took Father? Right from under your nose? Did you fall asleep at an inopportune time?"

Bernardo shook his head, his expression miffed.

Diego's own expression softened. "I am sorry, my friend. In a way, it was my fault for leaving when we already suspected something like this could happen. But I trusted Sergeant Garcia; it seems that trust is misplaced." He took Bernardo's hand. "Let's go up to my room. I want to hear your unvarnished account of what happened while I was away."

* * *

"He did?"

Bernardo nodded.

Sitting down on his bed, Diego put a hand under his chin. "That didn't sound like him. Monastario must have coerced him somehow."

Again, Bernardo nodded. He walked to one of the windows and pointed at a small building outside.

"That worn down shack? How long were you kept in there?"

Bernardo finger-drew a circle and a straight line down in the middle.

"Half an hour?" Diego walked to his manservant and gave him a hug. "I'm glad you were not locked up long." He reluctantly drew away. "Much as I loathe to, I'll have to get to the bottom of this."

Bernardo tugged on Diego's sleeve. The don sighed.

"I'm sorry, but I can't take you with me if I want to have any hope of convincing Monastario to release my father. Play dumb, but be careful. We don't know how strong a hold Monastario has over your kidnapper and perhaps some others."

Shoulders drooping, Bernardo shook his head. He put both his palms up then put his arms together as a cross and slowly waved both arms, palms facing outward, in opposite directions, meeting in the middle every other time.

Diego smiled. "Oh, you'll have your chance to be useful. If I don't return in a few hours, here is what I want you to do..."

* * *

"The comandante is busy, Don Diego, and is not available to see visitors."

Diego put one hand on his hip. "I am not here for a social call, Private. And if you do not take yourself out of my way-" He jabbed a finger on the poor private's chest "-on the count of three, I will just go right through you. I imagine that will be quite painful, don't you agree?"

Shaking, the ashen-faced private stepped aside. Diego knocked and opened the door to the comandante's office.

"I told you not to bother me, Private!"

"Much as I like to claim the rank, I'm not him, Comandante."

"Diego de la Vega!" Capitan Monastario stood up behind a mountain of papers on his desk. "What are you doing in my office without my permission?"

"Don't act so surprised, Comandante. After your little stunt, you cannot honestly tell me you didn't expect me."

The capitan sat down. "What do you mean?" His tone seemed conciliatory.

Diego settled on a seat near the capitan's desk. "Two bulls chased me and Sergeant Garcia up a tree! It was a pain trying to climb down. And it was all Sergeant Garcia's fault for spooking them."

The capitan gave a weak laugh. "You don't have any evidence that I had anything to do with your mishaps. Besides, it's not my problem you couldn't be bothered to become more athletic."

"Perhaps I have not made myself clear. It was Sergeant Garcia who got stuck in the tree, not me."

"It is still not my problem! What is your purpose in annoying me with all this trifling nonsense?"

"Why, Comandante? That implies I have some ulterior motive in airing my very legitimate concern about one of your subordinates." Diego took out a scented handkerchief. "I don't, you know. Have a motive, I mean. Thinking is so very tiring." He put the handkerchief to his nose, his other hand on the side of his head.

The capitan gritted his teeth. "Don't you dare get sick in my office."

Diego gave a lopsided smile. "I'm better now, thank you for asking." He inhaled one last time then put his crumpled handkerchief away. "It's a bit stifling in here. You'll do well to install more windows to get the air flowing."

"I'll take that under advisement." The capitan smiled without teeth. "Now, if there is not anything else, the exit is that way."

"Actually, there is one more thing. I understand you are holding my father in your jail. Please let him go."

"I'm afraid I cannot let a prisoner go simply because you ask, Don Diego."

Diego tilted his head. "But I'm not just asking, Comandante. I am willing to pay for my father's release."

"Oh? Why?"

"Why?" Diego shot the capitan an annoyed look. "It is bad. No work gets done without my father there. And the ranch hands and other servants do not obey me."

"It is because they sense you are a spineless weakling, de la Vega. Take my advice and learn how to do the work you take so much for granted."

"I'll thank you not to criticize me, Comandante," Diego said stiffly. "I only need my father to go home so that he can deal with the problem."

The capitan's eyes gleamed. "All right. I'll let you bail him this once." He held out his hand. "300 pesos."

"It's a trifle high," said Diego with an exaggerated sigh, "but I suppose I have no choice." He counted out the money.

"500 pesos."

Diego looked up. "I beg your pardon?"

"200 pesos is the fine for criticizing the legal bail amount."

Diego opened his mouth, but quickly closed it. He handed 500 pesos to the capitan.

"Very good." Monastario put the money away in a strongbox. "You may be sure I'll put this money you generously give me to good use."

Diego sniffed but didn't reply.

Both men went out to the jail cell holding the elder de la Vega. The capitan unlocked the jail door and opened it.

"You may leave, Don Alejandro."

Walking out of his cell, the former prisoner gave the capitan a wary look. "Why are you letting me go?"

A sadonic smile curved the capitan's lips. "Because your son has agreed to take your place." He shoved Diego into the jail and locked the door.

"I have not agreed to any such thing!" spluttered Diego, gripping hard on the jail bars.

"Well, you want your father to go deal with the situation at your hacienda. In return, it follows that you must be willing to deal with your father's own situation."

"What do you want, Monastario?" Alejandro demanded.

"I want you to find the pirates that escaped from my jail. There are seven of them so be sure to get them all. If you succeed, your name will be cleared from an unfortunate association with them and your son will be released."

"So you're holding Diego for ransom!"

"Such crude word. We are civilized men, are we not? I am merely holding him in your place since your name is not yet cleared."

"Why aren't you employing your lancers to chase after those pirates? That is the military's job, isn't it?"

"I have other uses for my lancers. And I'll thank you to not tell me how to conduct my affair. I do not meddle in your rancho affair, do I?"

Diego tugged on his father's sleeve. "You'd better do what he says, Father. It's useless to reason with him." Keeping his profile hidden from the capitan, he silently mouthed a few more words.

Don Alejandro's eyes widened, but then he nodded almost imperceptibly. "Do not lose heart, my son. I will return with the pirates."

* * *

"Elena! What are you doing here?"

"Visiting you."

"I know, but..." Diego trailed off.

"We have five minutes." Elena glanced left and right. "That man really didn't lie. He actually removed the guard."

"Oh, there has been no guard so far. Our esteemed comandante is simply certain that no mad man would attempt to rescue me in broad daylight."

"He led me to believe that he was doing me a favor."

"On the contrary, I believe he is really doing you a favor, Elena. If it were otherwise, he would have set at least two guards here and we would never have any privacy."

Elena moved closer. "But we still have to be careful."

"Of course." Diego put a hand under his chin. "I am glad to see you, but how did you find out that I've been imprisoned?"

"Oh, I saw Don Alejandro while he was looking for your manservant. Your father was reluctant to tell me about your trouble, but I convinced him that perhaps the comandante might be more inclined to listen to a request from me."

"And you were proven right. While there wouldn't be any guard either if Bernardo visited me as I originally intended, I don't think the comandante would have trusted him as much as he would you."

"I suppose you are right."

"Since my father decided to take you into his confidence, I hope he also gave you my file." He said the last part in a low voice.

"Yes." She pulled a small box out of her skirts' pocket. "Here you go."

"Gracias." He extracted a slender metallic tool out and handed the box back to Elena.

"Why?"

"I might be searched after you leave. It is easier to hide this than to hide a whole box."

Alarm crossed Elena's face. "If he searched me, it would go badly for you."

"It is unlikely that he will. But you can always distract him. Ask for the doll he took from me."

"A doll?" She looked puzzled. "What type of doll?"

"It is an old doll with sentimental value to me. And despite its resemblance to a certain masked outlaw, it is not based on him."

"I see. I'll try to get it back for you."

"The comandante probably wouldn't hand it back if he sees how much you want it. But thank you for your willingness to help."

"You helped my father. This is the least I can do to repay you."

"Please. Don't talk about repaying me. We are friends, are we not?"

"Yes, Diego, we are." Then she sobered. "Is there anything else I can do?"

"If you have some paper and quill?"

She did, and Diego scribbled down some note. He handed two folded pieces of paper to her.

"Could you get them to my manservant, Bernardo, without my father's knowledge? The contents..." He paused as a blush appeared on his face. "...are a bit embarrassing."

She concentrated then nodded. "Yes, I can."

"Thank you." He looked over her shoulder. "I see our esteemed comandante coming out of his office. Our five minutes must be up."

She turned to look then glanced back at Diego. "You will be all right, won't you?"

"Of course. I am merely a bait. Our ambitious comandante is after a much bigger game than my humble self."

"I hope so, for your sake." She took his hand. "Promise me you will be careful."

He lightly squeezed her hand and released it. "I will be fine, Elena." He shifted his gaze toward the capitan. "You'd better go to him before he gets suspicious."

* * *

"If you are not here to release me, I do not want to see you." If Diego's glare were real fire, the capitan would be burned to crisps already.

"Ah, don't be so upset, my dear senorito. I merely thought you could use a company. So I volunteer my generous self."

Diego crossed his arms. "Don't feed me lies. Just do whatever you are here to do and leave me alone."

The capitan gave a long suffering sigh. "You are a difficult prisoner, de la Vega."

The don sniffed. "It is all your fault."

"I am merely doing my duty. Surely you cannot hold that against me." The capitan opened the jail door and walked in. "I need to search you."

"You already did."

"Correction, one of my "subordinates" did, since I was truly busy when you came barging into my office. And that was before Senorita Torres visited you. She might give you something to aid your possible escape." Amidst Diego's indignant protests, Monastario conducted his search. At last, a look of triumph on his face, he pulled out a money pouch.

"You shouldn't travel with so much money, Don Diego. You could be robbed."

"It appears you are right. I am already robbed." He pointed at the money in the capitan's hand.

A twitch crossed the capitan's face, but otherwise he remained calm. "You misunderstand, Don Diego. I'm merely holding this money as a collateral."

"Like you did with the money you took from me earlier?"

"It's different. That was the bail money."

"That you misled me about. But I meant the money you, oh, excuse me, your subordinate took right after you put me in here."

"Oh, that money." The capitan grinned. "Yes, you could say it is being held in the same manner. I will return that money and this one to you when you are free to leave."

"Why not now?"

"It is too dangerous."

A single brow lifted. "Oh? I am afraid I do not understand."

"I can't let you have the money to bribe the guard to let you out. You have a beguiling tongue, de la Vega, and some of my not so bright lancers could fall victims to it."

"Beguiling, am I? Careful, Comandante. I could almost be fooled into thinking you like me."

"That is not a compliment."

"No? How disappointing. I wonder how you could be content with "not so bright" lancers." Diego brightened. "But of course, if they are otherwise, they might no longer be content to stay as your subordinates."

"If I were you, Senor Rapier Wit, I would be praying hard for my papa to return soon with the pirates. For you will not like what I am going to do to you if forced to have you in my jail for much longer."

Diego bowed. "Forgive me, Comandante. I found myself with nothing to do and it frayed my temper."

"It is not like you have ever done much outside of jail, is it?" The capitan stroked his chin. "All right. I'll send Sergeant Garcia to keep you company. Be good and not flay him with your wit, if you please. For as much as he is a baboso, I still have needs of him."

"I'll flay him if I want to. He betrayed my trust, luring me away just as you came to arrest my father on ludicrous charges."

The capitan sighed. "I see I'll have no peace from your whining if I don't set you straight. Garcia only acted on my order. And that was after I used his name to call you away from home without his knowledge or consent."

Diego glared at him. "You don't have any scruple, do you? Pray no one ever used your name to do things you don't approve of."

"Don't worry about me, my dear senorito. Unlike you or the sergeant, I can take care of myself." Chuckling, the capitan locked Diego's jail door. "See you when Don Alejandro returns with the pirates."

* * *

"I advise you to make no outcry nor sudden movement, Capitan." A rapier pressed into the capitan's back. "I would not want to carve you up to pieces just yet."

"Just how would you stop me?" sneered the capitan. "Lanc-"

Zorro shoved a piece of cloth in the capitan's mouth. "This is how." Keeping one hand steady on the sword, he used another hand to slip a loosely tie rope over the capitan's head and pull the rope so it fit over the capitan's mouth. Then he unceremoniously shoved the capitan into a chair.

"Now, open the strongbox," the masked man ordered.

The capitan made a sullen glare, but he complied.

"Take out the bail amount and other money you took from the young de la Vega."

Monastario carried out this order with ill grace.

"Am I stealing from you? No, I am not. And before you give me that patented disgruntled look, I am merely returning the money to its rightful owner." He shook his head. "No, no. Much as I am tempted, I am not going to return the bail money to Diego de la Vega. He deserved to pay that much for being too stupid to see through your scheme. I'm only going to give him the excess you took from him. The bail money, since you boasted so much of wanting to do good for our community, I will donate to the mission. I'll even put your name down as its donator, generous person that I am."

Lightly twisting in his seat, the capitan slowly put his hand upward along his side.

"Oh, I forgot to mention, I've freed your prisoner. So it is not possible to use him to bargain for those pirates anymore." Zorro's eyes hardened. "I would strongly suggest that you put your loyal lancers to the work of finding the pirates to clear Don Alejandro's name." His voice took on a menacing edge. "If I hear of you using a civilian to as a lure for criminals again, I will not hesitate to unleash the full force of my temper."

"Only if you are alive to do so." The capitan threw off the remnants of his gag. "Lancers! Lancers!"

Sighing, Zorro pressed the rapier harder. "You realize I could run you through now, do you?"

The door to the comandante's office opened. "Zorro!" Lancers in their night clothes came rushing in.

"Oh, this is so unfair. You need that many of you against one little ole' me?" Zorro took his rapier away from the capitan's back. "I'll be seeing you. All of you. But not when you have me in such an unfavorable position." Giving them all a quick salute, he ran into the capitan's room and leapt out of one of the windows.

* * *

It was at the crack of dawn when Diego made it home. Stumbling into the sala, he found his father waiting.

"You're back, Diego!" Smiling, Don Alejandro got up and hugged his son. "I would not have thought it possible, but our capitan is capable of changing for the better if he let you go."

"I am afraid I have to disabuse you of that happy illusion, Father. It is Zorro who rescued me."

"That meddling masked man!" Don Alejandro snapped. "He put his nose in the matter that does not concern him."

Diego sank into one of the chairs. "While I am grateful to be out of jail, you are right, Father. I am afraid Zorro made the matter worse for you by stealing your bail money."

"Bail?"

"Our comandante already had a 500 peso bail from me before he unlocked your jail door."

"That's highway robbery done in the name of the crown."

"I wouldn't be too quick to add that last part. The bail was originally 300 pesos, but my innocent comment on it being a little high raised it to 500 pesos."

"Bah! A plague on the man. And that Zorro, whoever he is, should stop playing with Monastario." Don Alejandro gave his son a look.

Twitching slightly, Diego gave his father a bland smile. "But our comandante is so fun to rile up. No self-respecting rogue would be able to resist playing with him."

"Zorro would resist if he has any intelligence. It is like playing with fire - you will get burned sooner or later."

Diego smiled. "You are giving our comandante too little credit. He is a blazing volcano. With all those depressed molten lavas bubbling just underneath the surface."

"That makes him even more dangerous and not to be mocked!"

Diego gave a shrug. "Zorro might appreciate your advice, but as there are only us here, I do not see the point in pursuing this discussion further."

Don Alejandro stared at his son. "I am not sure I like what I hear. You used to be more biddable."

Diego laughed. "I? Biddable? I do not know who that paragon is, but it sure is not me."

"The son who newly returned from Spain did everything I told him to. Now, you just want to stay in your room and play your atrocious guitar."

"My guitar is not atrocious!"

"It is your skill that is atrocious. I cannot stand the unholy symphony you are delusional enough to pass off for music."

"If you are trying to hurt my feelings, congratulations," Diego said in a cold voice as he got up.

A thundercloud on his face, Don Alejandro walked to his son. "Where are you going? Our discussion is not yet finished!"

"It is finished when I don't want to partake in it anymore." Diego walked out of the sala without a backward glance.

* * *

The early afternoon found Don Alejandro on a mountain just inland from the sea. His movements were calm and decisive through the dried grasses.

"I don't need to find the pirates anymore since Diego is free. But, knowing Monastario, he could jail either of us again. So finding the pirates it is." He peered over a boulder to the shoreline not far below.

A hand touched his shoulder. "Don Alejandro?"

"Madre de Dios! You took a few years off my life!" He squinted. "Wait, why are you here?" His eyes widened. "Don't tell me, you were in league with the pirates all along! And here I thought you could not be corrupted!"

"I-I." Don Alejandro's accoster fumbled. "I do know where they are. However, it's dangerous to visit them."

"Oh, you only started developing a conscience now?"

"No, Don Alejandro. I tried to stop you from going after them yesterday."

"You did," Don Alejandro agreed. "So why come after me so late? You must know I've already noticed them."

"I thought with Don Diego safe at home, you wouldn't need to search for the pirates anymore."

"Diego. Did you see him? Caring for nothing? I'm afraid I let my temper get away with me when I came out here with no real plan."

The accoster smiled. "If you would like me to believe that Don Diego cares for nothing, you are too late."

Don Alejandro deflated. "Perhaps. But-" He fell down, unmoving.

Don Alejandro's accoster whirled around. "You needn't do that! He posed no threat to you."

"Everyone intruding on our territory without invitation is a threat." That was said in a low voice with no inflection. "Be grateful I do not plan to hit you over the head also."

A sound of whip cracking rent the air. The weapon used to attack Don Alejandro went flying and fell down.

"Now you have gone and done it, Zorro. I'll never find my cutlass now under all the grass." Belying his words, Don Alejandro's attacker had his hand only inches away from the sword's hilt. However, Zorro's whip snaked around the hilt and snatched the cutlass away.

"Tell your followers to drop their weapons, Senor Pirate." Zorro pointed the cutlass at Don Alejandro's attacker, who glanced back at his men. Without words, they complied with Zorro's request.

The pirate leader held up both his hands. "We are not your enemies, Senor Zorro."

"You are not?" Zorro pressed the cutlass lightly over the general area of the leader's heart. "It's unfair to judge you on your unkempt appearance - although I have to ask if you've ever heard of a razor - but you look every inch like a cutthroat to me."

One of the pirates with eye patches snickered. "Woops, Captain. Seems like the rest of us are excluded from Senor Zorro's unfair judgment."

"You can lend me your razor, my lovely first mate. And if I'm in a good mood I might not even use it to slit your throat for you." The pirate leader smiled at Zorro. "Do you have an opinion on my bandana?" He pointed at his head. "It's colorful and too fluffy to be for a cutthroat, if I say so myself."

Zorro blinked. "Perhaps. At least you keep your long hair tidy and pulled together."

"I have to. It would be so inconvenient to have strands flying in my face every time I move."

Zorro opened his mouth and closed it. A few moment later, he asked, "If you are not our enemies, why did you harm Don Alejandro?" The masked man indicated the silver-haired don, who seemed more like he was asleep than unconscious.

The leader shrugged. "Can we help it that he came to us on his own? We just didn't want him to go and bring the authorities here."

Zorro looked him over carefully. "I don't know if I should believe you, but I don't get the feeling that you are lying either." He handed the cutlass back to the leader.

"None the worse for wear. And I mean both me and the cutlass. You're very skilled with your whip, Senor Zorro."

"I'll take that as a compliment. Now, tell me what your purpose is for being in the pueblo."

The leader flicked back his wavy hair. "Well, you see, Senor Zorro, we're looking for a fountain of wisdom..."

* * *

A little while after the argument with his father, Diego walked back into the sala and found a vaquero waiting for him.

"You wished to see me, Don Diego?"

"Yes, Benito. I'll get right to the point: had the comandante made any threats against Elena Torres?"

Benito looked at the floor and didn't answer.

"I understand the army searched her house for her father and found you there," Diego went on.

"Capitan Monastario is ruthless. I could not let the senorita go unprotected."

"Your loyalty to the senorita is to be commended, but the Torres household has its own set of loyal servants."

"They are nowhere to be found!"

Diego stroked his chin. "I'm not clear on something. According to a witness, the comandante let you go, even though he had you at his mercy."

"He was convinced I wasn't Zorro."

"The comandante clearly needs spectacles if he made that mistake to begin with."

"I dressed up as Zorro. I thought that would help, but-" The vaquero raised frustrated eyes to Diego "-I clearly don't have the skills necessary. And Zorro appeared to be angry with me for taking on his disguise."

Diego raised his brow. "Why do you think so?"

"He didn't come to rescue the senorita."

"Now, you don't know that. Perhaps Zorro didn't want to lessen you in the senorita's eyes. As long as you were not in real danger, I imagine he would not want to intervene."

"Even so, I've made things worse for the senorita. You are correct, Don Diego. Using the senorita as a leverage, the comandante forced me to take the pirate's chest into your library. I was to slip out at least one of the items inside the chest to him and lure Bernardo away." Benito looked up in earnest. "He wasn't frightened, was he? Please tell him I am sorry."

"Bernardo already forgave you, but I'll pass along your apology."

The vaquero bowed his head. "I am sorry, Patron. I did not know the comandante planned to arrest Don Alejandro. I'll understand if you no longer wish for me to work for your family"

Diego waved his hand. "You are a hard worker, Benito, and do not deserve to be dismissed over a valiant, if misguided, attempt to save Senorita Torres. However, I would appreciate it if you let me know next time you are in the same sort of difficulty."

Benito nodded. "I will. Thank you, Don Diego."

"Good. I need you to do something for me."

* * *

At the entrance of an abandoned mine on a mountain just east of Los Angeles, the pirates gathered. Their books were opened and arranged on the ground in such a way to form a treasure map.

"There is a lever here."

"Jump to the right, Faran."

He did. A click sounded. To their left, a door opened.

"Who will be the brave soul to go forth first?" the pirate leader wondered.

Everyone pointed to the leader, who grinned. "You're all good for my ego. Or maybe you just want me to die and be out of your way."

"If we wanted you dead, Captain, we would just kill you where you stand," the first mate returned, flashing his non-white teeth.

"Right. Begging your pardons, my beloved comrades." The leader stared at the map. He then returned the books to the chest, locked it, and covered the chest with a light-camouflaging cloak, hiding it from view. "All right, I have the details memorized. Let's go."

They all went through the mysterious door together.

* * *

In a cavern underneath the old mine, the pirates found themselves surrounded by soldiers.

"Capitan Monastario!"

"You dare show your face when you never live up to your end of the bargain."

"Actually," said the pirate leader, tilting his head, "you came seeking us just now, not the other way about."

Monastario gritted his teeth. "Don't be impudent. You know what I mean."

"I really am afraid I don't, Capitan. Pray refresh my memory."

"Silence!"

The leader shrugged. "Suit me all right. We're in a hurry here so pray excuse us."

"Lancers!"

His expression no longer amiable, the leader stepped close to the capitan. "I was surprised into carelessness the first time you tried pinning us with false prison charges. Do not think I will make the same mistake again."

"You." The capitan put a hand on his chin. "You weren't the one sending that annoying note summoning me here."

His eyes gleamed, the leader smiled. "Oh, I am sure you can blame your resident fox for such a note." He craned his head in the direction of a shadowy beyond. "Come out and save me, if you please."

"You seem to have the situation well under control, Senor Pirate," Zorro said with a matching smile.

"After you took the trouble to stage our confrontation with the capitan here, saving us is the least you could do."

"Fair enough." Zorro turned to Monastario. "What say you, Capitan? Shall we let our pirates take what they come here for and leave peacefully?"

"You're acting way above your pathetic station if you are under any delusion that I want to be connected to you in any way, shape, and form."

"Hmm. Perhaps I should be grateful that you didn't trot out the "you are not a gentleman" bit this time. Or worse, ignore me completely."

The capitan smiled at the pirate leader. "If you pay the garrison half of the treasures you find, I will let you all go on your way."

"Only half?" wailed the leader.

The smile turned stiff. "Do not try my generosity."

"What do you think, my dear brothers-in-arms?"

"Take it, Senor Pirate. You're unlikely to receive a better bargain from our esteemed capitan."

The leader nodded. "I suppose I must, Senor Zorro."

* * *

They all returned to the surface of the earth. Uncloaking it, two of the pirates carried the chest to the other end of the old mine.

With unerring accuracy, the pirate leader picked up one book and flipped it open to a page with mathematical formulas. He waved for his followers to take a look at the page. "My beloved comrades, I need all of you to move in this exact order." Having said that, he translated the formulas to practical instructions they needed.

Crossing his arms, the capitan regarded the proceeding with contempt. "This witchcraft nonsense is a waste of time."

"Lower your voice, Capitan. You don't want them to be offended and go away without sharing their treasures with you."

"At this point, I don't think their treasures actually exist." As if Monastario remembered that Zorro was supposed to be beneath him, he turned away.

Belying the capitan's words, a large fountain appeared. Many little colorful goblets made up the fountain's base.

"Here you go, Capitan. Our treasure," the pirate leader announced, spreading his arm toward the fountain.

"Water, water!" Monastario exclaimed, his face incredulous.

The pirate leader took one goblet of water and peered into it. "Well, yes." He gently put the goblet down.

"Lancers, arrest these men!"

"Just a minute here." Zorro jabbed his sword on the capitan's back. "Are you going back on your words?"

Monastario hissed. The lancers froze. Taking advantage of the moment, the pirates brought out their weapons.

The capitan gave a contemptuous glare. "Those fiends went back on their words first," he spat.

"Now, that is not very nice. This water of knowledge is the treasure we seek. So, I did not lie. You, Capitan, on the other hand..."

Zorro laughed. "Even I didn't expect this outcome."

"Really?" the leader demanded, pointing his cutlass at Zorro. "Just what did you expect, then, when he threatened me and my comrades first?"

"Oh, I only mean I did not realize you have not chosen a conventional definition of treasure."

"I see." The leader gestured at the chest with his sword. "We're intellectuals, as these books will assert."

Zorro laughed even harder. His arm shook, causing his sword to come within inches of slicing open the back of the capitan's neck.

"Have you lost your fool mind?" Monastario demanded in a leveled tone. He kept a wary eye on the sword.

"I beg your pardon, Capitan." Zorro removed his sword.

"What's the joke?" The leader sounded more curious than angry.

"The two caballeros who temporarily ended up keeping your books weren't far wrong in their speculations...impressions of you."

"Wish I have the pleasure of speaking with them, but our king wants us back as soon as possible."

Zorro tilted his head. "You are not a Spaniard, yet you speak Spanish like a native."

"Spanish is one of our official languages. We are from a small island country on the edge of the Mediterranean, bordering Asia."

The capitan stiffened. "You never told me any of that when I asked you, yet you cheerfully shared all this information with a masked bandit who didn't even asked!"

"Well, now that you know who we are, you are certain you want to take that tone with me, Capitan?"

Monastario hissed and turned away. "We are going back to the cuartel!"

The pirate leader stared after the retreating back of the army.

"With that man as your comandante, no wonder you choose to wear a mask instead of fighting him openly."

Zorro smile seemed a bit forced. "The mask has its use." He waved. "I must be on my way before the capitan remembers I am a wanted criminal."

"I don't see any alleged criminal activities from you. Which reminds me, thank you for returning our books."

"Thank the de la Vegas. I merely transported the chest."

The leader smiled. "It seems we might have to leave California a few hours later than scheduled, then."

* * *

"Zorro said your leader wished to see us."

"No, it's not a summon. My captain only wished to thank you for the care and return of our books." The first mate gave a wry smile. "And to apologize for mistreating you, Don Alejandro, when you first came to us."

Diego stepped forward. "Why did the comandante let you go free?"

"Your resident fox talks too much," the first mate complained. Yet he was smiling. "To answer your question, Don Diego, our king is on intimate terms with your king Ferdinand."

"That isn't the whole reason. Monastario would not be scared off that easily."

"It is classified information, Don Alejandro. I recommend you don't probe too deeply."

"I don't like threats."

"Neither do I like making them."

"Father, you can't expect them to share classified information with us."

"You're right, my son." Don Alejandro turned to the first mate. "Where is your captain?"

"He often disappears after our mission is fruitful." The first mate shook his head, seemingly in a fond exasperation. "We'll set sail in a few hours, so come back around that time if you would like to talk to him."

"We can't wait. It will be dark soon." Diego's gaze lingered on the earthly pirate's sloop reflecting the late afternoon's sunlight. "She is beautiful."

"She's a gift from our monarch. In case the captain made muddle of the matter, we sail with our government's approval."

"I'd imagine so. Well, have a safe voyage and tell your captain we are sorry to miss him." Diego held out his hand, which the first mate shook. He and his father then departed.

* * *

As they are about to retire for the evening, Don Alejandro put a hand on Diego's arm.

"I never properly apologized for my unwarranted comment on your musical ability."

Diego paused at the staircase leading to their rooms. "There was nothing to apologize for, Father. You didn't mean it, just like I didn't mean my apparent disobedience. But even if you did mean it, I will forgive you, for you are my beloved father."

"You can forgive me, yet you're not going to apologize for staging our quarrel," Don Alejandro teased.

Diego didn't look at his father. "It was necessary. Had to fool my friends before fooling my enemies."

Don Alejandro peered at his son. "Something worries you."

"Just that mythical pirate leader whom we never see. Why didn't he meet with us?"

"You think the first mate lied?"

"Oh, I think the leader was really not on that ship."

"Then I don't see a problem. He wasn't avoiding us for some sinister reason."

Diego shrugged. "I suppose I just can't feel easy in the mind with someone mysterious running around our pueblo doing who-knows-what."

"While I sympathize with your sense of unease, keeping track of a private citizen is not our job."

"You're right, father. I just hope I'm wrong and we hear no more from those troublesome pirates."

Don Alejandro slapped his son lightly on the back. "Amen to that."

* * *

Stars had only started to come out in the sky when a stagecoach arrived in the plaza. A well-dressed man exited with several trunks.

Sergeant Garcia ambled over to the coach. "May I see your travel document please, Senor?"

"Right." The young man fished out several folded pieces of paper. "Here you go."

"Anastacio Marti Vilaro." The sergeant studied the man. "It says here that you come to visit an acquaintance?"

"Oh, that's just a cover."

"Cover? Are you some sort of a spy?"

Anastacio shook his head, making his neck-length hair billow about like waves. "Don't mind me. I saw you being so diligent and just couldn't help teasing you."

"So you're not a spy." Sergeant Garcia sounded almost disappointed.

"Don't discount that possibility just yet," Anastacio said, grinning. Then his face turned serious. "I'm here to see a friend. Do I have to tell you who that is?"

"Well, the comandante would insist on knowing. We don't have strangers in Los Angeles very often."

"Put the de la Vegas down as my hosts then."

"They never mention expecting a guest." The sergeant's eyes widened. "Do they actually know you?"

"Perhaps."

"Will you be serious, Don Anastacio?"

"I'm not a don. Just 'Senor Vilaro' will do."

Sergeant Garcia crinkled his brow. "You are not? But your clothing, and even your mustache, look to be similar to what the dons here are wearing."

"I am in an awkward position of belonging to a social class that has no representation in this pueblo. But rest assured that I'm not a peon who is dressing better than his station."

"I...see."

"Don't sound so skeptical, Sergeant. It's only that, like you say, the de la Vegas didn't expect me, so don't warn them of my presence, if you please."

"But-"

Anastacio slapped the sergeant lightly on the shoulder. "Ah, where is your spirit of adventure, my dear Sergeant?"

"Well, as long as it's harmless..."

"Nothing worth having in life is without risk." Anastacio looked at his pocket watch. "Would you mind hurrying? It's now late and I still need to get settled for the night."

The sergeant looked at Anastacio's belongings, which his fellow lancers just finished inspecting. "You are free to leave for now, Senor Vilaro. The comandante will wish to see you when he returns."

"Good. I will be at the tavern if you need me."

* * *

 _Diego de la Vega. I am here to pay you back. With added treasures._

With a frayed black clothed doll lying comfortably in one hand, the man who called himself Anastacio Marti Vilaro walked out into the night of shining stars. Payment could wait for another day.

* * *

Author's Note:

Standard disclaimer applies.

Anastacio Marti Vilaro is my own creation. He is not the same as (nor in any way related to) the character in canon with the same first name (never did learn the last name of that one).

As always, thank you for reading my story.

Next Chapter: "Scarecrow"


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